Bird In Red

Violence

A dagger on my wrist,

White rose on the ground.

A silent wish that I didn\'t exist,

Blood stains all around.

 

Pain, then darkness. What next?

Rose petals, once white, now stained with red.

An old piece of paper with black text,

my lifeless body in a king-sized bed.

 

The dagger fell to the groud

Breaking the castle\'s deathly silence.

This is the moment I\'ve waited for,

The right answer has always been violence.